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Tuesday, January 21, 2014

The School Bus

The School Bus

I was sitting on
the veranda, solemnly contemplating the first brandy of the day, when round the
corner came Khondwa in a dusty disheveled school uniform, and plonked himself
dejectedly onto a wobbly cane chair. ‘Hullo Grandpa,’ he grunted. ‘What are you
doing here?’

‘I
was about to ask you the same question!’ I exclaimed. ‘As far as I know you’re
supposed to be in Ndola! You know it’s costing your parents a small fortune to send
you to that Prestige Faculty Secondary School! So now what have you done? What
are you doing back here?’

‘I
thought I’d get more sympathy from you, Grandpa. Everybody says you’re a bit of
a delinquent.’

‘Don’t
try to soft-soap me,’ I snarled. ‘That’s why your mother was so keen to send
you to this PF Secondary School, so you don’t end up like me. What has
happened? Have you been expelled?’

‘It
all started with the school bus.’

‘School bus?
School bus? What are you talking about? Did you try to steal the school bus?’

‘We
don’t have a school bus.’

I
was so irritated I poured myself another glass of brandy. ‘So how did you get
into trouble over a non-existent school bus?’

‘It
all started last term,’ he replied calmly, ‘when we prefects all had a meeting
and decided that the school needed a school bus. So we all went to see the
headmaster, Mr Chumbu Mushololwa, and told him we had decided that the school
should buy a bus.’

‘And
you were the ringleader?’

‘I
was elected as the spokesman, if that’s what you mean.’

‘So
I suppose the headmaster just told you that there was no money, and a school
bus was out of the question.’

‘Not
at all. He said that the PF was a democratic institution, and it was good that
we were coming up with our own ideas for improving the school. But the only
problem was that there was no money. But he said he would appreciate our help
in solving the problem. So he appointed us as the school’s Transport Committee,
with the task of finding out the level of enthusiasm for a school bus, and if
necessary to raise the money to buy one.’

‘But
why were you so keen to get a bus? Or was it just a political gambit to show
that the prefects had more ideas and ability than the headmaster?’

‘What
an old cynic you are, Grandpa! Without a bus we had all sorts of problems. The
local day-scholars had transport problems and most of them needed a school bus.
But worst of all we had no bus for school trips. Our Debating Society couldn’t
visit other schools for debating contests. We couldn’t go on educative trips to
visit factories or mines or council chambers, let alone development projects.
All our lessons were out of the textbooks, but we could never see anything in
practice. With our own bus we would be able to take better control over our own
curriculum, and find out how the world really works!’

‘Hmm,’
I said. ‘And did you persuade the other students and their parents that the
school needed a bus? Did you manage to collect the money?’

‘Oh
yes. We launched an enormously successful Christmas campaign. We found that all
the parents were very supportive. By the time we came back to school a couple
of weeks ago we had collected rather more than K300,000, enough to buy a new 26
seater.’

‘So
have you bought the bus?’

‘That’s
where the problem came in,’ replied Khondwa sadly. ‘Immediately we got back to
school Mr Mushololwa called the TC into his office and told us to hand over the
money to him, since only he could legally buy a vehicle on behalf of the
school.’

‘I
suppose that was true enough.’

‘But
then he said that buying a bus was merely a recommendation to him, and he would
have to put this recommendation to the school’s board of governors, bearing in
mind that the school also had other transport problems.’

‘So
what did you say to that?’

‘We
said that all of the boys and their parents would be very annoyed if they heard
that their demand for a bus was not to be respected, and if all the money we
had collected was used for something else. But he told us that according to the
terms of reference of the TC, the demand for a bus was a only recommendation to
him personally, and if members of the TC leaked their recommendation to other
students then this would be a breach of their loyalty to the headmaster,
warranting instant expulsion.’

‘So
did anyone on the TC blab?’

‘We
were all too scared,’ admitted Khondwa.

‘How
pathetic,’ I sneered.

‘Everything
was quiet for about a week,’ continued Khondwa. ‘Then the rumour went round
that the headmaster had been given the money, but was refusing to buy the bus.’

‘Then
there was a riot?’

‘Still
everything remained quiet. Then two days later, the headmaster drove into the
school in his new Mercedes E250. That same night a group of boys gently rolled
the car onto its side, and put a match to the fuel line. It lit up the sky
something marvelous!’

‘So
you’ve been expelled!’

‘The
entire school has been expelled! Now we all have to apply for re-admission.’

‘Very
good,’ I laughed. ‘Now I see you were right, the school bus has improved your
understanding of how the world really works! I always knew that the PF would
give you a good education!’